


here's a truth i don't want you to know

by Kody (saturated)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Truth or Dare, the others are there in peripheral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 21:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturated/pseuds/Kody
Summary: Everyone was looking at Richie expectantly.  Maybe if he came up with a lie, it could work out.  Maybe if he prayed, his mom would call and tell him he couldn’t sleep over anymore.  Maybe if he faked his death.“Fine!” Richie said eventually.  “Truth.”-----Richie get pressured into picking truth in a game of truth or dare, and gets asked the one question he didn't want to answer.





	here's a truth i don't want you to know

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place the fall after the events of the first movie.
> 
> TW for some homophobic language but there's only one. Tagging just so you know

“Truth or dare, Richie?” Eddie said staring down Richie from across the circle. Richie felt a shiver go down his spine. His friends always wanted to play truth or dare, and they always had the most invasive truth questions, but sucked at dares. So, Richie became the dare guy.

“Dare,” Richie said rolling his eyes, ignoring everyone’s groans.

“That’s all you ever pick,” Bev said from Richie’s right, laying on her stomach with her head propped on her hands.

“Cause I’m not fucking chickenshit like you guys,” Richie said.

“Get’s boring, though,” Bev said poking Richie’s knee. “Be a real daredevil and pick truth for once.”

The others nodded in agreement. All except Eddie, who was still staring Richie down. Richie knew, Eddie had a question in mind he wanted to avoid. Anyone else and Richie might have been able suffer one round of truth, but Eddie had an answer he had been trying to get from Richie for weeks.

“Come on, Rich,” Stan said. “How else are we going to learn invasive truths about each other and grow our friendship if you won’t participate?”

Everyone was looking at Richie expectantly. Maybe if he came up with a lie, it could work out. Maybe if he prayed, his mom would call and tell him he couldn’t sleep over anymore. Maybe if he faked his death.

“Fine!” Richie said eventually. “Truth.”

Eddie smirked. “Finally. You won’t tell me but now you have to. You keep saying there’s someone at school you’re totally into.”

“I’ve said that like twice,” Richie butt in.

“At least once a day,” Eddie corrected. “Who is it?”

It was such a simple question. _Who are you crushing on?_ All Richie had to do was think of a girl in their school that was pretty, or that he knew, or that existed near them sometimes. All he could think of was Bev, and that wouldn’t fly very well with Ben in the room. No, someone else, but unfortunately for Richie, he couldn’t remember a single other girl in their school. All he could think of was Eddie staring at him, waiting for an answer.

All he could think of was Eddie.

That summer, he finally admitted it to himself, who he was and what Eddie meant to him. Eddie meant so much that Richie carved their fucking initials in the kissing bridge for fuck’s sake. Eddie with his loud mouth hiding a quiet and gentle kindness for his friends. Eddie, who would gripe on Richie about not shutting up and then go on and on about nothing for the next hour. Eddie, who Richie had been loving for years and only now realizing what that meant.

Richie _had_ finally figured out what it meant. He loved Eddie, and that was going to get him killed. He remembered vividly Bowers screaming at him that summer. He remembered the faces of everyone around him watching. He remembered the whispers when he went out the next day, and the insults, and the rumors.

He remembered one of the first things Bev told him in a hushed tone when they were still getting to know each other. “It took me a second to remember your name, but just so you know there’s some writing in the girl’s bathroom that says ‘Richie Tozier sucks flamer cock.’” Richie had nodded and Bev said she would scratch it out, but the damage was done. People had seen it. Bev, their new friend, had seen it. There was a sort of silent agreement between them that they wouldn’t talk about it again.

“Richie?” Bev said, sitting up. “You don’t look so good.” She put a hand on his shoulder.

Richie felt like he was going to throw up. He ran out of Bill’s room and into the bathroom to do just that.

He slumped against the wall opposite the toilet, his mouth with the bile taste of vomit, feeling dizzy and depressed. He wanted to go home. He wanted to not cave into his friends pressuring him to pick truth. He wanted Eddie to not ask that, to ask anything else. He wanted to feel normal.

Someone knocked. “Richie?” It was Stan.

“Come in,” Richie said. There was no use in trying to send him away. Stan would have come in whether Richie said that or not.

Stan took a seat next to Richie on the floor, not saying anything. Richie knew he was thinking, trying to choose his words carefully so he wouldn’t make Richie upset. Stan was always so good at that. Richie felt like he didn’t deserve his friendship sometimes, especially when he went overboard on the dirty jokes that he knew Stan didn’t like. But when it came time to read Richie into oblivion and still make him feel good about himself, Stan was always ready to take that job.

“What happened?” Stan asked after a minute.

“I fucking upchucked,” Richie said lightly chuckling. “I’d show you how rank it was if I didn’t already flush it.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Richie got dizzy again. His stomach turned. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Got nervous, I guess.”

“Why? She that ugly?” Stan smiled softly. He bumped Richie’s shoulder who smiled in return.

“I wish,” Richie said. Richie hugged his knees against his chest. He had to tell _someone_, and if he needed to, he wanted it to be Stan. “I – Stan, I…” He trailed off. Richie blinked tears out of his eyes and hid his head in his knees.

Richie felt the warm weight of Stan’s arm across his shoulders. He lifted his head, looked Stan in the eyes, and without hesitating, said “Stan, I like boys.”

Stan paused, looking at Richie with such intensity that Richie thought he would start crying again.

“Okay,” Stan said. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t hate me?” Richie said, wiping his eyes. Richie never imagined Stan throwing insults at him, laughing and jeering at him like everyone else, but still, Richie couldn’t imagine a Stan that didn’t. Even after proving time and time again that they were in it for the long haul, Richie couldn’t imagine any of his friends actually supporting him and continuing to love him, even if he was a fucking fag. They were on the outside, but Richie felt even more outside of that.

“Not because of this,” Stan said, arm still around Richie. “I hate you for a lot of other reasons, but not cause you’re gay.”

Richie let out a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid,” Richie said, not quite knowing what he meant by that.

“Who is it?” Stan asked.

“No fucking way, dude,” Richie said.

“Come on,” Stan jeered. “Let me be your wingman.”

Richie couldn’t help but smile. He also couldn’t help himself when he said, “It’s Eddie.” Stan always had a way of weaseling information and heart-to-hearts out of Richie. He kind of sucked like that, but in a good way, Richie told himself.

“Of course, it is,” Stan said.

“What the fuck does that mean, weirdo?” Richie asked, playfully shoving Stan.

“You’ve got it bad,” Stan said. “It’s so obvious.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Stan raised his eyebrows in a way to say, do you really believe that? Richie didn’t know. Was he obvious? Or was Stan just being an asshole like always? Richie settled on a healthy mix of both.

Stan pressed his lips together, remembering the other reason he came to talk to Richie, and stood up, holding out his hand to pull Richie up too. “Eddie’s freaking out,” he said. “He thinks it’s his fault you ran off.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“I know, but he won’t believe us,” Stan said pointedly. “You need to talk to him.”

Richie deflated.

“You don’t have to tell him,” Stan said quickly. “But he’ll only listen to you.”

Richie followed Stan back to Bill’s room where the air was tense. Everyone was both looking and not looking at Richie at the same time. Bill and Mike were trying to talk about something Richie couldn’t hear, while Bev and Ben were sitting by Eddie who had read puffy eyes and looked terrified.

Richie couldn’t do it. He knew that if he tried, he would have to tell Eddie the truth because that’s what Eddie deserved. Maybe not the whole truth, not everything he told Stan, but half of it. But if he told that half, eventually Eddie might figure the rest out on his own. What would happen then? If Eddie knew that Richie liked him, how the fuck would they move on from that? Richie couldn’t bare to lose his best friend.

God, he needed a smoke.

Like a bloodhound, Bev approached Richie, taking his hand and pulling him to the window and out onto the roof. In his daze, he managed to hear Bill yell, “D-d-don’t drop your cigarettes on the lawn again or else my p-p-p-parents are going to ground me.”

Bev called back, “Anything for you, Billy boy.”

Richie and Bev sat on the roof, shoulders pressed together as Bev pulled out a pack, taking out a cigarette for her and one for Richie. It was muscle memory now, how they sat and smoked and talked shit about anything and everything. Richie wasn’t sure about Bev when they first met considering the first thing they ever talked about, but true to her word, she scratched out the writing and never brought it up again. Then, there was the first time he tried smoking with her. He choked and she laughed and since then Richie couldn’t imagine a time without her, like they had been friends their entire lives.

“You’re queer,” Bev said after a few minutes of silence.

Richie shivered and he didn’t know if it was from discomfort or the cool fall night.

“The rumors were true,” Bev pushed without being pushy, “weren’t they?” She didn’t mean any of it as accusatory. She said them all like completely true statements, waiting for Richie to disagree. But he didn’t.

“Yeah,” is all Richie could say.

“It’s Eddie,” Bev said. “The person you’ve got it for.”

Richie nodded taking another hit off his cigarette.

Bev smiled to herself. “Yeah, I see it.”

“See what?” Richie asked. Stan and Bev guessed. Was he really that fucking obvious?

“You always look to make sure he laughs at your jokes. And you always want to be near him. And he told me how you always sneak out to his place at night, like every night.”

“He told you that?”

“Of course,” Bev said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He likes you too.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I have eyes, Rich,” Bev said. “He looks at you the same goddamn way. And he doesn’t yell at anyone else the way he yells at you.” She added that last part with some humor, nudging Richie with her elbow.

“There’s no fucking way,” Richie said.

Bev shrugged. “Just saying.”

There was a tap at the window, and then it opened. Eddie took a step out onto the roof before pausing and covering his mouth with his hand. Both Richie and Bev instinctively put out their cigarettes. Eddie’s asthma may have been fake, but his reliability on his inhaler was not. Smoking around him was something they just didn’t do.

Richie handed his cigarette butt to Bev before she went back inside, trading places with Eddie who sat with space between him and Richie.

“It’s Bev, isn’t it?” Eddie said pulling his knees to his chest. Richie always hated how small and vulnerable that made him. “That’s why you freaked out. You didn’t want Bill or Ben to know.”

“It’s not,” Richie said quietly.

“I’m sorry I asked,” Eddie said. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It’s not her, Eds,” Richie said, louder this time.

“Then what’s the problem?” Eddie said, tears in his eyes. “What’s the big fucking deal that you can’t tell me?”

Richie stared at Eddie. It must have been for too long because Eddie broke eye contact and turned his attention to the yard.

“It’s fine,” Eddie said. “I’m going back in.”

“Wait,” Richie said. Eddie looked at him expectantly. “I freaked out because the person I like is a boy.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Okay.” They sat like that for a minute, Eddie still holding his knees close and staring into the yard, and Richie studying Eddie’s profile, wishing he could tell him the full truth, but also knowing that it would end in disaster.

“How did you know?” Eddie asked.

“I just did,” Richie said.

“Yeah, but…” Eddie trailed off. “But how? What does it feel like? What is it _supposed _to feel like?”

“I don’t…” Richie started, but he couldn’t finish. He couldn’t say he didn’t know. Eddie was asking him a genuine question, and the more Richie thought about it, the more he did know. The more he thought about Eddie, the more he could place exactly how he felt.

“It feels like the world,” Richie said. “It feels like everything you do is for that person and every time they’re happy, you’re happy, and every time they’re sad, you just want to punch whoever did that in the fucking face, even if it’s yourself you’re punching.” Richie paused and looked at Eddie again, who was watching him intently. “I knew because I didn’t feel that way about anyone else and I thought if I lost him, I didn’t know what I would do.”

Richie thought about Eddie’s freshly freed arm, and the cast that came off it only a week ago. Richie remembered the feeling of seeing it, of being at Neibolt and wishing more than anything he could get Eddie out of there and keep him safe. He was so scared, not of dying, but that something worse would happen to Eddie, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Hopefully, he gave Eddie the answer he wanted.

“I think…” Eddie said slowly. “I think I might be…too…that…to both…boys and maybe...maybe there's someone...”

Richie didn’t need Eddie to clarify that horribly worded and cryptic phrasing. Eddie liked boys too, and also liked a boy in their class. Bev said that Eddie liked him too. Richie heart skipped a beat and he tried to even his breathing when it hitched in his throat.

“Okay,” Richie said. “Who?”

Eddie chuckled. “If you won’t tell me, why should I tell you?”

“Oh, that’s cold, Eds,” Richie laughed. “That’s really fucking cold.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“You tell me then I’ll tell you,” Eddie said stretching his legs out. “Unless you’re too chickenshit, Trashmouth.”

Richie’s face fell. He shook his head. “I can’t.”

Richie tried to figure out what Eddie was thinking. His face had an emotion that Richie had never seen. A mix between confusion and…something else. Eddie was figuring something out, and Richie had never wanted to be inside a person’s head so bad.

“What would you do,” Eddie started, “since we both like boys, if I asked you to be my boyfriend?”

Richie heart might as well have stopped. “I…That’s a mean joke, Eds.”

“If you say yes, it’s serious,” Eddie said. “But if you say no, then it’s a mean joke and you can forget about –”

“Yes,” Richie said, cutting Eddie off.

“Okay,” Eddie said. They both turned their attentions back to the yard, avoiding all eye contact.

Wait, what? Richie was confused on what had just happened, but he couldn’t just ask Eddie, could he?

“Are we boyfriends now, Eds?” Richie asked.

“Only if you don’t fucking call me that,” Eddie said scooting closer to Richie so that their shoulders were pushed against each other.

“Edward.”

Eddie shook his head, a small smile creeping on his lips.

“Eddie-bear?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” Eddie said, unable to hide his smile anymore. “You can kiss me if you want.”

“I’ve never –”

“Me neither.”

But Richie really wanted to. He closed his eyes and leaned in, careful to plan his course so he wouldn’t miss, and determined not to back out at the last second. He kissed Eddie, and he could feel Eddie kiss him back. He hoped he didn’t taste like cigarettes, but he knew he did, so instead he hoped that Eddie secretly liked it. Richie pulled back.

“You taste gross,” Eddie said, elbowing Richie.

“You’re gross,” Richie said, elbowing back.

Eddie laughed. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Richie said, grinning ear to ear.

And so Eddie did.

**Author's Note:**

> All I can seem to write are cute, stupid little one-shots. Anyway, I have million little one-shots in my head. Maybe I'll make a series of them that are all in my own little universe or whatever.


End file.
